


Fix It, Reclaim It

by NegansOtherWife



Series: Sing Me A Song [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Chill Negan, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Talking, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 06:39:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13898433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: In which Negan visits and admits he misses your voice—among other things.





	Fix It, Reclaim It

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I'm back with a part three! Couldn't get this song out of my head (Hole In My Heart by Gavin James), and this fic demanded to be written. 
> 
> My Tumblr: https://negansaysyouearnwhatyoutake.tumblr.com

“ _I've got a hole in my heart_ ,” You sing absentmindedly as your eyes scour the vast grassy terrain before you.

“ _Where your love used to be_ ,” Rattling the fence, the two biters turn in your direction and you remove your knife from its sheath as they come rambling towards you.  

“ _I’ve got no air in my lungs_ ,” The sharp blade cuts through the decayed skin like butter and they go down like puppets who’ve had their strings cut. You study the clumsy way their limbs are positioned as they cease moaning and once again you become cloaked in silence, “ _we used to breathe…_ ”

The only sound, the whispering of the wind as it sways the tall grass in one direction before sharply changing its course. 

“ _And I don't want to…close my eyes and fall asleep_ ,” You start back towards the front gate, nodding to a fellow passerby as you run your arms lightly against the metal of the fence. 

“You alright, Y/N?” Jogging the last couple of feet to the front gate, you give Regina the affirmative, coming to stop beside her. In the past several months that you’d been personally promoted to the status of Savior by consequently foiling Negan’s assassination attempt, you’d had Regina assigned to you as a mentor. “Homesick, yet?”

You smile at her joke even though it’s true—painfully so. It was true what they said: 'Be careful what you wish for.'

The moment you’d been promoted you were sent to the Greenfield outpost, approximately 25 miles distanced from The Sanctuary. 

You missed Gavin and Meredith, and sometimes when you were alone, missed the conversations with Negan.

“One more month and you can put in for a transfer,” She comments, making her way past you with a pat on the back. Regina’s a tough bitch, but one with a heart of steel. You’d gained knowledgeable tips from her in the past several months and were grateful despite the distance it took you to get it. 

You suppose you were lucky, as outposts come this one was spacious and held fewer occupants. Previously a commercial office building, the five-story structure consisted mainly out of glass. Sprawling gardens and wildflowers dominated a majority of the grounds, tended to by the spouses and family of the Saviors assigned here. All of which took to dressing more casual when off duty. 

It was a completely different atmosphere from the factory, to say the least.

Today was the last of the month which meant Greenfield was expecting a supply delivery from The Sanctuary. You’d held your breath the last month unable to understand why until a wave of disappointment had flooded your system. Silly girl. Why would Negan be on a simple supply run? He’d promoted you, that was enough. 

“ _Cause every time I do I'm only dreaming of you_ ,” Lucky no-one minded your singing and you leaned against a metal pole, waiting for one of the snipers in the tower to alert you when the supply trucks were close. Oddly enough, your job consisted mostly of administrative tasks. How to take inventory, create work schedules, and studying— _ugh_ , there were endless hours dedicated to studying maps of the surrounding areas. 

Now, you were tasked with steering the men coming today around back and delegating where all the supplies would be stored. 

“Y/N!” You look up at the sound of your name and even though you can already hear the sound of the truck approaching, you wave in thanks. 

“Don’t worry I got the gate,” You call back, stashing your book of Sudoku puzzles behind a bush before adjusting the gate latch, all the while humming quietly to yourself. 

“ _Cause you were the thorn on the rose that I used to hold_ ,” You give a small push and the gate barely budges. It’s a solid metal slab but hollow so you throw the whole of your weight into the next push as it slowly begins to move. “ _Oh, there's no easy way to live. When you've taken all I have to g—_ ”

“Man, oh man. How I’ve missed that sweet voice of yours, bird.” Negan’s easy smile becomes revealed to you as the gate slides smoothly the rest of the way on its track, making a slight banging noise where it comes to its end. You pay it no mind and without a moment's hesitation leap into his arms. “Missed me too, bird?” 

“It’s nice to see a friend,” You breathe into his ear before breaking the embrace, taking note of the two supply trucks behind him. 

“Who’s the foreman?” One of his men calls out through the window of the idling car. You take a small bit of glee at the look of surprise on Negan’s face as you step forward, barking orders to the men he’d arrived with. 

“I am,” You gleam. It’s quite a rush being in charge, you totally see why this appeals to him so much. 

“Regina’s inside,” You offer when Negan doesn’t budge. He’s got this look on his face, and you think, coming from Negan, it could mean many things. But he doesn’t look angry, so you figure it’s okay to see to your responsibilities. “Let’s go, boys! Round the back, nice and easy. Sooner we get this done, the sooner you can eat!”

At their affirmative, the two vehicles make their way down the dirt road and to the back of the building where the garages are located. With a running start, you grab the handle of the passing garbage truck, swiftly bringing your feet up onto the running board in a practiced motion as you continue to bleat out instructions. 

The eyes of Negan follows your every move, unbeknownst to you. 

* * *

“I’m telling you, Negan!” Gary leans over to clap you on the back and you stiffen taking the blunt force of the hit, “Fastest time we’ve ever put away supplies—and, _get_ this—the warehouse is so clean you could eat off the _goddamn_ floor.” He chortles.

“Yeah, doesn’t look like a goddamn hurricane blew through it anymore.” Tito remarks in kind, stabbing at the food on his place. 

Negan nods, considering their words before his eyes are entirely focused on you. “My men are impressed, bird.” You try not to make it so obvious the way his praise effects you. 

Yourself, the entirety of Negan and his men, Regina, and a couple of stragglers sit around the long table in the kitchen, eating dinner. It’d be a shame if you embarrassed yourself. Sandwiched between Blake, a friendly body, as well as Regina’s wife, Michelle, you willfully inhale the vegetable lasagna. 

“It was Y/N’s idea to organize the shelves by size.” Regina interrupts and you flush despite the fact that you’ve never been shy about attention. 

“Michelle,” You turn to her in an effort to change the subject from something other than your work ethic, “amazing as always—is this zucchini?”

Regina leans forward from her position next to Negan, “Don’t try to change the subject. Remember what I taught you?” She lightly admonishes you, before turning to Negan, “You were right by the way.”

“Something I never get tired of hearing,” He remarks, leaning back in his chair across from yours, and you watch as they quietly begin to converse. A wave of jealousy rises in your gut before you swiftly beat it down. 

“ _Bird_?” Michelle nudges you with her shoulder, lightly teasing, “is that because you’re always singing, Y/N?”

Blake pivots in his chair, “You’re a songbird, Y/N. You know,” He loiters for a moment before his voice lowers a little and he leans in, “you should start taking requests.”

A tight smile gives way before you turn your attention back to your plate, although it’s futile. 

“I think I’ll go for a walk,” You mumble after a moment, grabbing your plate in the process. 

Michelle halts your movements, “Leave it, hun.” Smiling in thanks, you make a hasty retreat and exit through a side door into the grassy expanse that surrounds the building. Sucking in a deep breath of air, the scent of pine and earthy undertones envelop your senses before you begin walking.  

“ _If I asked you to stay just for a little while_ ,” Walking the perimeter of the fence you find yourself amongst the gardens, Michelle’s pride and joy. Stooping to pluck a white daisy from the ground, you twirl it absentmindedly between the tips of your finger before plopping down on one of the numerous benches scattered across the grounds.  

“ _Just… for a little while longer_ ,” A stray wind ruffles the skirt of your dress and internally, you reprimand yourself. With your lungs filled to the brim with fresh air and your mind clear, you could admit that you’d worn your best dress—a navy blue cotton number, with quarter sleeves, stopping at a modest knee length—to catch his attention. An all together blasé move. 

You giggle out loud at the absurdity. It was rumored that Negan had as much as five sexual partners. He’d never go for you. But, you diligently remind yourself, at least you’d found a friend in him. That was worth much more than a passing fancy. 

“What’s so funny?” Startled, you leap from your perch. Negan makes his way towards you, the easy gait in his step and the semblance of a smile on his face. You soak in the sight of him. 

“Nothing,” You answer with a small smile, you can’t help it. He’s here, and you have him all to yourself. He closes the distance with long strides.  “I was just taking some quiet time to my self.” 

“I see that, _bird_.”

“What else do you see, _Negan_?” Settling back into your spot he comes to rest beside you and you marvel at the moment. Look how far the both of you have come, so comfortable in each other's presence.

“You know,” You cross your legs considering, and unbeknown, Negan’s eye follows the motion. His eyes greedily drinking in the site of your exposed skin. Maybe you’re doing this on purpose, he entertains the idea before discarding it, “I’ve always wondered what you were doing up so late that night, at the front gate, no less.”

“I wanted to know who was making all that goddamn noise,” Of course, you can’t help but be a little sheepish. You’d thought you were being quiet. 

“But the second time,” Your gaze raises to meet his. “Well, I really wanted to see your face again, bird. Couldn't get your voice out of my head, your smile…the way you devoured that sandwich in four bites. I wanted to see you doing it again.” He admits. 

An unknown emotion rises in your throat and you do your best to stuff it down. “Well, I bet you miss my annoying singing now, huh?” You snigger lightly, “How’ve you been, Negan?” Because a part of you wonders, does he miss you like you miss him? When he shows no signs of answering, you let it go, instead reveling in his closeness.

“ _That_ , bird!” You jump back at Negan’s sudden outburst and meet his heated gaze with one of your own. “How do you fucking do that?”

“What are you talking about?” You begin to protest. “I didn’t say anything. You don’t wanna talk. I-I-I get that. I won’t push you,” Sometimes words cheapened a moment, you knew this for a fact. 

“Exactly! How do you know I don’t wanna talk?” He leans forward in earnest and you meet his fevered gaze with yours.

“Your brows pucker, I guess? I don’t know, you get this loo—”

“I can’t do this again,” He interrupts and your heart drops at his hasty, strung along words.

“Do what, Negan?” Endless thoughts spin around your head like a carousel as you try to understand his intentions, to put a stop to what? This friendship? The conversations between the two of you? Your heart throbs at the prospect. “You’re not being very clear—” Grasping the nape of your neck, he earnestly presses your lips to his so that you begin a slow kiss. Sensing your willingness, he continues, employing his tongue, so that the embrace deepens. Minutes pass and you lose yourself in the feeling of being totally immersed in him. The scruff of his beard, the silkiness of tongue, the roughness of his palm as it splays across your overheated skin. 

“This,” The grip he still has on the back of your neck tightness for a brief moment. The both of you catch your breath, foreheads tightly pressed together. The warm stream of air he emits brushes against you sensitive lips making them tingle, “I can’t—fall in love—not again.” He begs you to understand, and you do, you tell him as much. If anyone understands, it’s you. 

“It’ll always be you,” He sounds so broken, resigned in his feelings. His grip on you tightens, contradicting his words. “I don’t know if I can, bird.”

“Just kiss me, Negan.” You whisper earnestly, breath catching with emotion as you gaze into his dark eyes. For once, their an open book and you peer into his soul, memorizing every insecurity, every scar and crack on his soul. “We can worry about everything else later,” You plead.

Slipping into his lap, you revel in the ease of this moment. The way your body molds to his, hearts beating against each other in earnest, as you both greedily steal the warmth from each other, swallowing it whole, consuming more. The rapid pulse beneath your lips. The roughness of his fingertips as they slide beneath the hemline of your dress. With every touch, you reclaim a bit of your sanity. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Reviews make me write quicker and kudos make my day.
> 
> Okay, mwah x


End file.
